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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293470">A Suitable Match</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/pseuds/MiriamKenneath'>MiriamKenneath</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Monsterfucking, Other, Shameless Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:22:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/pseuds/MiriamKenneath</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>FIVE monstrous suitors the Prince considers and rejects, plus the ONE whom he decides to accept.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Prince Who Failed To Specify 'Human' In The Rules/Monsters Competing For His Hand In Marriage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fandom 5K 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Suitable Match</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>-</strong> <strong>1</strong> <strong>-</strong></p><p>The Prince stood at the top of his castle’s tallest tower, gazing out the window and down upon the queue of suitors forming on the distant ground below. He took a deep breath and steeled his nerves: They were arriving. At last, they were arriving. Long and hard they had travelled, for many weeks and months, and from many faraway lands, to win the Prince’s hand in marriage…</p><p>And none of them – not a single, solitary one – was a human being.</p><p>All right, he’d admit it: He’d made an honest mistake. He’d meant ‘human’ when he’d sent forth the proclamation. Of course he had. No, he hadn’t explicitly said so, but he’d thought it went without saying! But no, apparently it didn’t. Regardless, though, he wasn’t about to back down now. <em>This</em> Prince would not be remembered as a coward.</p><p>‘I am not a coward, I am not a coward, I am not a coward,’ he repeated like a fortifying mantra as he descended from the tower and headed towards the castle courtyard, where a pavilion made of brightly coloured silks had been erected. Within the pavilion, food, drink and every other conceivable comfort had already been laid out, and the Prince would have the privacy he needed to conduct his interviews of the suitors.</p><p>The first suitor arrived, stepping into the pavilion on electrum-shod hooves. It was a Unicorn Lord of the Ancient Glades. His eyes were quicksilver; his mane and beard were a dancing halo of blue methane flame; and his horn was a razor-sharp twist of ivory.</p><p>‘Sir Unicorn,’ said the Prince politely, ‘I say to you now what I shall say to all who come before me in this capacity: Make your case for our marriage, the strongest possible case you can. You have three hours. After I have met with each of the candidates separately, I will choose the one who has pleased me best.’</p><p><em>I am no mere unicorn, Your Highness</em>, said the Unicorn, startling the Prince with a resonant, mellifluous voice projected directly into his head. <em>I am a king amongst unicorns, and I was consorting with fair maidens in the days when this noble kingdom still lay beneath the mighty sea. You are a virgin, Your Highness, and only the fairest of the land’s virgins may mount and ride me. I offer this rare honour to you now.</em></p><p>The Prince was surprised. He was not of the habit of publicising his sexual inexperience, and to his knowledge no one outside the castle walls would even have had reason to suspect it. Yet somehow, the Unicorn knew. Warily, he approached. That horn was wicked sharp; it could impale and run him straight through if the beast so wished. The Unicorn radiated heat like a furnace and a rich, spicy fragrance. The Prince inhaled deeply – intoxicating – and the Unicorn lowered his mighty head to nuzzle the Prince’s cheek and nibble at his shoulder. It was a gesture of friendship, of welcome. The Prince lifted his arms and wound them around the Unicorn’s thick, strong neck –</p><p>And the next thing the Prince knew, he was mounted upon the Unicorn, and the Unicorn was leaping through the silken walls of the pavilion and galloping around the courtyard and barrelling ahead through the archway and the portcullis, carrying the Prince out of the castle and into the idylls of the surrounding countryside.</p><p>The Unicorn ran fast, fast as the wind, and the Prince, who was riding bareback, could feel the play of powerful equine muscles between his thighs. The sensation made his stomach flutter and fizz. He threw his head back, laughed with sheer joy and hung onto the Unicorn’s mane for dear life. This might, just might, he thought, be Heaven on Earth.</p><p>Later, after they were returned to the comfort of the pavilion, the Unicorn mounted the Prince, and thus it was the Prince learnt that a king of unicorns the Unicorn well and truly was. This was a rather different manner of impalement than the Prince had imagined when he had first laid eyes upon the Unicorn – and many magnitudes more delightful. For the Unicorn was no mere mortal stallion, no. The Unicorn was a creature of eldritch magic, you see, and his great weight did not crush the Prince beneath it, nor did his great member, once seated fully, deliver anything short of the purest, most transcendent of pleasures.</p><p>‘I – oh! More!’ cried the Prince as his hole, no longer virginal, was stretched obscenely wide and ploughed over and over and over like a tenant farmer’s field. Face down, on his hands and knees, the Prince could but yield himself to potency of the Unicorn, each mighty, wild thrust making his own cock jerk and weep glistening droplets of fluid until, finally, he was pouring his first, maiden tribute across the woven rushes upon which he knelt.</p><p>When the Unicorn achieved completion, his seed filled the Prince until his belly became distended and the excess washed back out in thick rivulets down the Prince’s taint and scrotum and inner thighs whilst the Prince marinated in post-coital bliss.</p><p>‘Thank you. I will notify you of my decision in due course,’ said the Prince after the Unicorn’s allotted three hours was up.</p><p><em>There is no need. I have already taken what I desired, and we shall not meet again,</em> replied the Unicorn.</p><p> </p><p><strong>-</strong> <strong>2</strong> <strong>-</strong></p><p>Why – ! Why, he’d – he’d <em>never</em> – ! In other circumstances, the Prince might well have felt taken advantage of, but there was no denying that the ride – and <em>the ride</em> – he had experienced with the Unicorn was nothing he hadn’t wanted. Craved, even, with nigh insatiable lust. In fact, he continued to ache in all the right places…</p><p>Nevertheless, the Prince was no one’s personal conquest, and he felt it reasonable to expect that his suitors be actual <em>suitors</em>, come to his kingdom and castle to petition for his hand in marriage. He therefore instructed his councillors to turn away any candidates in the queue who did not seem sincere in this regard, after which the queue shortened considerably.</p><p>The Prince wasn’t certain whether to be relieved, offended or disappointed by this development.</p><p>Ah, but never mind – he was determined not to be discouraged and to give his next suitor his undivided attention.</p><p>His second suitor was a Troglodyte. Although the Prince had never laid eyes upon a member of the rare, reclusive, cave-dwelling tribe, she – and she was recognisably a young female of her kind – was definitely a Troglodyte. The milk-white skin, long locks of colourless hair and small, blind red eyes were unmistakable. Also, the Prince could not help but observe, the Troglodyte was appealingly graceful and slender (save for wide, strong hips that ought to stand her in good stead on the birthing bed), and her facial features were pleasantly regular. Her clothes, though finely made, were hardly thicker than cobwebs and hid nothing.</p><p>The Prince felt his loins beginning to stir as she knelt humbly at his feet and heard the same speech he’d only yesterday delivered to the Unicorn.</p><p>‘Your Highness, I have the honour of being the second child and first maiden daughter of the Lord Lowest of the Underrealm,’ said the Troglodyte after the Prince’s speech had concluded, her tongue thickly accented, ‘and I shall serve however you command in the hopes of winning your hand and building an alliance between your great kingdom and the Underrealm.’</p><p>‘<em>However</em> I command…?’ asked the Prince speculatively, his member coming stiffly to attention inside his trousers. He couldn’t care less about the prospect of co-ruling the gloomy Underrealm, he realised, but the prospect of sex with a Troglodyte…! Sex interested him very much at this very moment, and what was this about being a maiden…?</p><p>‘Yes, Your Highness.’ She could not see him, he knew, but she must have sensed – or perhaps smelt – his interest in her, for her nostrils flared.</p><p>‘Then I command you to please me,’ he said.</p><p>‘As you command, Your Highness.’</p><p>Ignorant peasants sometimes liked to tell stories about Troglodytes, like about how they had a mysterious sixth sense to compensate for their lack of sight. The Prince would not have ordinarily been inclined to believe such nonsense, but when the Troglodyte – a self-proclaimed maiden, no less! – placed her hands unerringly on his hips and pressed thin, bloodless lips to his still clothed member, he found himself suddenly inclined to make adjustments to his previous assumptions.</p><p>‘Take it out and prepare me,’ said the Prince, doing his best to sound authoritative. He had hardly more experience than she, but after having been so thoroughly penetrated, he now wished to experiment with actively penetrating a partner himself.</p><p>And the Troglodyte was obliging. She opened the laces of the Prince’s trousers and used graceful, milk-white hands to guide his member toward her pretty pink tongue. She laved him fearlessly with that tongue, moistening his length with long, wet swipes and stimulating him to full hardness. The Prince moaned in response to her ministrations, his member twitching and throbbing and dripping clear tears that the Troglodyte dutifully licked away.</p><p>Soon enough, he felt ready to proceed. He put his hands upon the Troglodyte’s shoulders and gave her a gentle push. She seemed to understand what he intended without having to be told, for she sank fully to the ground, lying back flat, her legs spread and knees turned slightly outward. She lifted the hem of her skirt.</p><p>There was little for the Prince to see. Just a modest slit half-concealed by a thatch of colourless hair. He wasn’t certain what to do next. ‘Open yourself for me,’ he ordered, hoping that she would instruct him in how to navigate her body and not realise quite how ignorant of the feminine mysteries he was.</p><p>‘As you command, Your Highness,’ she said. Her hands dipped between her legs, parting the twin lobes of flesh that formed the slit. Inside was much more complicated-seeming than the Prince would have anticipated, with strange flaps of skin and an odd nubby bit towards the apex. The Troglodyte exhaled softly as her thumb stroked the nubby bit, and a hole lower down that the Prince hadn’t previously noticed gaped open.</p><p>The little nether-mouth looked soft and moist and yielding. The Prince’s loins ached, and he grasped his member firmly at the base to prevent a premature conclusion to this sexual congress. He dropped to his knees between her legs. She nodded and made an encouraging noise; her hole gaped open even wider. The Prince checked his aim, brought himself to bear before the Troglodyte’s cunt –</p><p>And recoiled in shock when he saw the teeth. They were triangular, shiny and serrated like a shark’s, and there were multiple rings of them on the inner walls of the Troglodyte’s nether-mouth. The Prince felt his manhood wilting faster than a bouquet of flowers placed inside a hot oven. He wasn’t putting his precious member anywhere near those teeth – absolutely not!</p><p>‘Your Highness?’ queried the Troglodyte. She sounded confused. ‘Why do you tarry? I am ready to please – ’</p><p>‘I have finished, thank you,’ interrupted the Prince curtly, ‘and you will be notified of my decision in due course. In the meantime, you are dismissed.’</p><p>He did not bother watching her leave the pavilion.</p><p> </p><p><strong>-</strong> <strong>3</strong> <strong>-</strong></p><p>This was officially the third time the Prince was saying it: ‘Make your case for our marriage, the strongest possible case you can. You have three hours. After I have met with each of the candidates separately, I will choose the one who has pleased me best.’</p><p>The creature stood before him was the strangest he had seen thus far, and it was nothing he was capable of identifying by name. Its body, though roughly human-shaped, was covered, not with skin, but rather with a fine, overlapping tessellation of yellow-gold scales, and its fingers and toes were tipped with wicked, curved claws. Its head, however, was the strangest part of all, with the snout, wet nose and large, forward-facing eyes reminiscent of a scent hound. What the Prince had initially mistaken for long, shoulder-length locks of russet coloured hair covering the creature’s ears were, in fact, <em>its furry ears</em>. Again, so much like a dog’s. And when the creature smiled, the Prince noted a mouthful of sharp canine teeth – yet the smile was so delightfully bright and disarming that the teeth did not strike him as at all threatening whatsoever.</p><p>‘I am the Half-Wyrm of Mount Hima,’ said the creature. ‘My father is the immortal Soul of the Mountain, and my mother is a mortal human woman tithed to my father by the Sheep People who are permitted to live on Mount Hima’s lower slopes. My father has sent me forth from his mountain to seek my fortune. This I have done, across four continents and three seas. Now I present myself and the horde of treasure I have amassed to you, Your Highness.’</p><p>The Prince’s councillors would surely have perked up at the mention of this horde of treasure, but the Prince himself found that he could not care less. He was much more interested in hearing about the Half-Wyrm’s journeys across four continents and three seas. What wondrous sights must the Half-Wyrm have seen?</p><p>‘I intend to take my mid-afternoon repast,’ said the Prince, gesturing toward the food which had been previously laid out for him inside the pavilion. ‘Do join me. I would be most pleased to hear some of your stories.’</p><p>The Half-Wyrm did as it was bid, and they supped heartily together on stewed fruits, spiced meat and glazed nuts. The Half-Wyrm had a lively nature, face and voice animate as it recounted its tales of adventure and derring-do, and the Prince found himself thoroughly charmed, both by the Half-Wyrm’s stories as well as by the Half-Wrym itself. The Half-Wrym had the warmest, most infectious belly laugh. More often than not, the Prince found himself laughing along, too.</p><p>Their progression to intimacy was organic and did not require discussion. One moment, the Half-Wyrm was pointing to a dribble of sauce on the Prince’s chin, and the next moment, they were kissing.</p><p>The Half-Wyrm’s tongue was long and dexterous, and kissing the creature was less about kissing <em>per se</em> than it was about tongue-jousting and nuzzling. The Prince delighted in stroking in the velvety fur on the Half-Wyrm’s snout and carding his fingers through the feathery locks covering the Half-Wyrm’s ears. And there was some especially soft, thick fur framing the sides of the Half-Wyrm’s face; when the Prince buried his nostrils in it, he smelled hickory woodsmoke and summer rain on volcanic rocks. The Half-Wyrm’s scent was intoxicating.</p><p>As was the Half-Wyrm’s laughter, which did not stop even as they grappled and stroked each other. The Prince laughed when the Half-Wyrm’s clawed hand closed gently around his erect member – so gentle, no scratching! – and the Half-Wyrm laughed at the Prince’s surprise to see how the scales between the Half-Wyrm’s legs seemed to part of their own accord to reveal a single, modest aperture.</p><p>An aperture which emphatically did not have teeth, many thanks to the Thirty-three Gods of Heaven and Earth!</p><p>The Half-Wyrm laughed as the tip of the Prince’s member brushed its hole, and the Prince laughed as he slipped it inside, as sweetly and as easily as you please. They fit together like hand to glove, and the Half-Wyrm nipped playfully at the Prince’s ear as the Prince buried his face in the Half-Wyrm’s half-furred, half-scaled shoulder, dug his heels into the ground to give himself sufficient leverage and began to thrust.</p><p>Ah, such friction, such bliss – ! They moved together in unison, hips rocking, fingers stroking, limbs tangled, rolling over and over and over so that the Half-Wyrm was on top, and then the Prince, and then the Half-Wyrm again. Flesh against flesh, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting. And how they laughed, how they laughed! Such union, such happiness and peace. If only it could have lasted forever.</p><p>But inevitably it could not, and the Prince’s body commenced readying itself for a momentous expulsion. The Half-Wyrm rolled the Prince onto his back once more and rode him until his eyes rolled back into his head and he spilt his seed. The Half-Wyrm laughed one last time before bathing the Prince’s swollen, well-used member with its own abundant come.</p><p>After that, they paused to rest. Then they began again. And again. And again. <em>And again.</em></p><p>After the allotted three hours were over, the Prince informed the Half-Wyrm that he would make his decision, and the Half-Wyrm would be notified in due course…though, if he were honest, and if he weren’t so tired after so many frantic copulations, he might have rendered his decision to councillors and kingdom immediately.</p><p>Of the three suitors he had seen so far, the Half-Wyrm had been the best so far by quite a lot more than half.</p><p> </p><p><strong>-</strong> <strong>4</strong> <strong>-</strong></p><p>That last encounter had been immensely gratifying, the Prince decided, and never had he felt quite so sexually potent. However, it had also been thoroughly exhausting. So he rather hoped that his next suitor would not be quite as energetic.</p><p>And it seemed, with this fourth contender, that the Prince’s wish would be granted – for this fourth contender looked like nothing so much as a garishly coloured oval carpet with ruffled edges. The colours were black and indigo mostly, with a sprinkling of orange spots and three green stripes. The Prince did not see a head or any limbs. Yet the creature was clearly alive, for it moved, albeit very slowly, and it also talked, albeit very, <em>very</em> slowly.</p><p>‘I am a Prince of the Southern Ocean and Duke of the Sapphire Sea,’ it said. Actually, the strange creature’s speech sounded more like, ‘Aaaaiiii… aaaam… aaaa… Prrriiinnnceee…’ – but the Prince was still recuperating from yesterday and found he was willing to be patient. He therefore made the necessary accommodations in listening to the creature. ‘Long and far have I journeyed, under ocean, over land, and most eager am I to make your acquaintanceship, Your Highness. In fact, I have been so eager that I embarked upon my journey to your august kingdom to seek your hand in marriage three years and three months prior to this auspicious day.’</p><p>The Prince raised his brows. Given the strange creature’s slowness in the forming of its words, the Prince had plenty of extra time to do the basic maths in his head: His proclamation seeking suitors had been sent out only three moons ago. This meant that the strange creature had been travelling for three years <em>prior</em> to the issuance of the proclamation, before the Prince himself was aware of wanting to be wed.</p><p>Well, the creature had persistence and dedication, if nothing else, and it might be prescient. Such traits had to count for something in a spouse, right?</p><p>‘I am honoured to receive you, kind sir,’ said the Prince, ‘but you will have to forgive me, for I fear I have never met one of your people before and do not know what a being such as yourself ought to be called.’</p><p>‘I am a Worm, Your Highness,’ said the self-proclaimed Worm.</p><p>‘I…hmm, please forgive me, but did you say a “Wyrm”?’ asked the Prince. His previous suitor had been a Half-Wyrm, and whatever this creature was, it did not look like a Wyrm, half or whole!</p><p>‘No, Your Highness, I said <em>Worm</em>. I am a Flat Worm.’</p><p>‘Oh. I see.’ And indeed the Prince did. He had seen tiny creatures much like this Flat Worm undulating on the gentle currents whilst swimming in the coral seas of the Summerlands, but he had not known they could grow so big. And he still wasn’t certain where on its body the Flat Worm’s head was to be found either, but he forged ahead gamely with the interview by addressing the rough area he thought its voice was coming from. ‘And how, Lord Worm, do you propose to make your case? I must confess that the candidate preceding you had impressive sexual prowess, and I have already decided that whomever I marry will be required to please me in bed. How would you therefore propose to please me?’</p><p>‘I would certainly hope to please you, if you’ll allow…?’ Actually, the Flat Worm’s words sounded more like ‘Iiiiffff… yooouuu’ll… alloooowwww…’ but since the Prince was willing to allow it, he allowed the Flat Worm to approach him. Which it did, slowly. Eeeeveeeer sooooo slooooowly.</p><p>The Prince considered his position. Best if he got down on the Flat Worm’s level, he supposed. And it did look rather slimy, he thought; perhaps he ought to remove his clothing. Yes, that was what he would do. Fortunately, he had plenty of time to do that, and to lie down near the Flat Worm, and to get thoroughly bored whilst staring up at the pavilion’s silken enclosure.</p><p>Slowly, eeeeveeeer sooooo slooooowly, the Flat Worm crawled on top of the Prince, and slowly, eeeeveeeer sooooo slooooowly, the Flat Worm’s single, giant foot massaged the Prince from head to toe. It was rather like being enveloped by a giant, living carpet –</p><p>A carpet which did have, as it turned out, an erect male member that was fleshy, slimy and not especially warm. It was not particularly uncomfortable when pushed into the Prince, but neither was it particularly arousing, especially not at the agonisingly slow speed with which it thrust.</p><p>The Prince yawned, but the Flat Worm was not discouraged. It also had a (thankfully toothless!) hole with which it accepted the Prince’s half-staff member, with an identically fleshy, slimy texture. It wasn’t especially warm either, but the Prince’s own body heat stood him in good stead, and he passed a pleasant minute or two thrusting energetically up into that hole until the expected paroxysm of ecstasy overtook him.</p><p>But alas and alack, the Flat Worm was not finished, and the Prince discovered that the weight of its body was too great for him to move on his own. With no other choice in the matter, he decided to let the Flat Worm proceed with whatever it wished to do. And if he drifted off to sleep, well, it was the Flat Worm’s own fault for not keeping him suitably entertained.</p><p> </p><p><strong>-</strong> <strong>5</strong> <strong>-</strong></p><p>The Prince was forced to stifle a yawn when his fifth and final suitor entered the pavilion. He did not need to ask what manner of creature it was, for he already knew: This creature was a Satyr.</p><p>‘Lord Satyr,’ he said, ‘I bid you welcome.’</p><p>‘Thank you,’ said the Satyr.</p><p>The Prince waited for the Satyr to speak further, to launch into a disquisition on his particular credentials, for instance, but the Satyr was silent.</p><p>‘Lord Satyr,’ said the Prince, ‘I would invite you to tell me more about yourself. Are you a king amongst satyrs; are you the Great God Pan’s Chosen? Have you frolicked with nymphs on four continents; have you chased treasure beneath the three seas?’</p><p>‘Hmm? Oh no, I am no king amongst satyrs, and if the Great God Pan has a Chosen One, I am not he. I hail from the sylvan woods just beyond the western wall of your castle, Your Highness, and have never been inclined to travel. I am, in every conceivable regard, an ordinary satyr. I am nothing special.’</p><p>The Prince harrumphed. Why, the audacity of this creature! ‘If you are nothing special and have nothing to offer me, then how, pray tell, do you intend to make the case for our marriage?’</p><p>‘Oh, I never said I had nothing to offer you,’ replied the Satyr. ‘Your reputation for particular…hmm, shall we say…<em>appetites</em> precedes you, Your Highness, and I am here because I am certain that I, an ordinary, bog-standard satyr, come fully equipped with everything required to satisfy those needs.’</p><p>The Prince felt his cheeks flushing. This Satyr was audacious indeed! ‘And how, pray tell, do you propose to satisfy my, er, <em>needs</em>, as you so inelegantly put it?’</p><p>‘How about this, to start?’ suggested the Satyr, hips canted forward, cloven-hoofed feet spread wide. His erect member, of truly animal proportions, waved at the Prince.</p><p>The Prince swallowed reflexively – the sight was causing him to salivate. He realised the Satyr might have a point. ‘I am not opposed in principle,’ he said slowly, trying and probably failing not to sound too unduly eager.</p><p>‘Excellent,’ said the Satyr.</p><p>He had to; he couldn’t <em>not</em>. And though it was the first time the Prince ever had a phallus pass between his lips, he thought he could become accustomed to the routine. The Satyr’s member was sweet against his tongue, with just a hint of salt, and when it bumped against the back of his palate, the Prince wept happy tears. He bobbed his head back and forth, enjoying the Satyr’s shivers and groans. He was making the Satyr feel good; the Satyr felt good in his mouth; and…and…</p><p>The Satyr would feel better than good back to front, thrust up into the Prince. ‘You want me to fuck you, don’t you?’ said the Satyr, his choice of words as vulgar as his proclaimed humble origins in the nearby wood.</p><p>But the Prince couldn’t disagree – wouldn’t disagree – and the Satyr turned the Prince onto his belly forthwith and rutted with him like they were both beasts in the field. And perhaps they were beasts: They roared together as they came.</p><p>Later, the Satyr offered himself to the Prince, bent at the waist, tufted tail lifted in invitation, but the Prince would have none of it. So instead the Satyr took the Prince once more, lifting him up with his strong arms and dropping him down onto his unflagging, eternally erect member. The Prince grasped the Satyr’s curved horns with both of his hands, snarled and bit at the Satyr’s lips and bearded chin as the Satyr bounced him up and down, up and down, up and down until they both achieved completion once more.</p><p>‘I believe I have made my point,’ said the Satyr as he took his leave. He did not bother waiting for the Prince to tell him he would be notified of a decision in due course.</p><p>Sad to say, the Satyr <em>had</em> made his point. The Prince would need to think long and hard on what he had learnt.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>+ 1</strong>
</p><p>The Prince had made his decision. The choice had been neither easy nor straightforward, and he’d had both his own preferences as well as the needs of the Kingdom to consider in the process of his choosing. He’d also taken advice from his councillors.</p><p>Now, he was ready to announce the outcome of the selection process publicly. He was seated on his throne in the courtyard where lately a silken pavilion had been erected. His entire court, the majority of his kingdom’s subjects and his five suitors were stood before him to receive his decision. (He could not help but notice that his courtiers and subjects seemed more keen to stare at his suitors than himself. He told himself that it was human nature to want to gawk and that he was not to take personal offence at their behaviour.)</p><p>The Prince rose from his throne and stepped forward. He cleared his throat and began to speak: ‘My suitors have each presented a most compelling case for marriage, and this has made my subsequent deliberations these past nights most difficult. Nevertheless, I have made my decision, and I hereby declare that I have chosen – AAAAAHHHHH!!’</p><p>‘AAAAAHHHHH’ was not the name of any of the suitors; ‘AAAAAHHHHH’ was the involuntary shriek of terror the Prince emitted when he felt himself seized by the shoulders, lifted high up into the air and carried away on a thermal, up, up, <em>up</em> into the sky, through the window of his castle’s highest tower and deposited unceremoniously onto the flagstone floor.</p><p>His kidnapper was a creature made of light and heat and flaming feathered wings. It was a Deva, the Prince knew, a celestial being conceived before the creation of the mortal world and favoured by the Thirty-three Gods of Heaven and Earth. And when the Deva’s brightness shone directly upon him, the Prince experienced a spontaneous, ecstatic expulsion of seed from his loins –</p><p>Which the Deva seemed to absorb into itself, thereby strengthening the intensity of its heat and its radiance.</p><p>‘You’re so beautiful,’ breathed the Prince.</p><p>‘As are you,’ replied the Deva.</p><p>And then the Prince was in the Deva’s arms, and the Deva was in the Prince’s, and its hot, hard member was pushed up inside the Prince. It happened to fast he couldn’t even remember having been impaled, but as always, the impalement was exquisitely pleasurable. The Prince moaned and endeavoured to take the Deva deeper –</p><p>Which is when he felt it. The swell of something far harder and wider than even the Deva’s erect member stretching him, first at the ring of muscle guarding his back passage and then higher and higher and higher yet still. The Deva shuddered against the Prince, hips jerking, and the Prince realised that what he was feeling was something the Deva was doing…<em>was delivering forth into him.</em></p><p>It burst free with a gush of wetness spilt so deep into the Prince that he half-imagined he could <em>taste</em> the spill upon his tongue, and the sensation of fullness made the Prince spill himself once more, gasping and moaning as the Deva’s radiance pulled the seed out of the Prince and pushed it back into him again – in the form of a Deva <em>egg</em>.</p><p>Yes, he knew. Somehow, he just <em>knew</em>. The Deva was impregnating him, and soon he would have an heir. Nay, more than one heir. Possibly several. The Prince spilt himself a third time, and the Deva laid a third egg in him.</p><p>The Prince was still impaled upon the Deva’s member when he stood at the top of his castle’s tallest tower, gazing out the window and down upon the crowd of courtiers, suitors and subjects gathered below. ‘I have made my decision,’ he shouted, loud enough so that everyone should hear and not mistake his meaning, ‘and I hereby declare that I have chosen – the deva!’</p><p>His announcement was greeted with cheers, gasps and disappointed growls from the crowd below. The Prince didn’t care. The Deva’s member gave a satisfied thump inside the Prince, and the Prince, too, was well-satisfied by the outcome of his search for a spouse.</p><p>At last, he had his suitable match.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>- <em>fin </em>-</strong>
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